


J. Daniel Atlas in: The Time Traveling Magician

by MissCellophane



Series: Random Ideas I Had [14]
Category: Now You See Me (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Danny had ptsd, Light Angst, M/M, Might edit this again later, One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Movie, Team as Family, The Eye is evil in this, Time Travel, but also mid-movie due to time travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCellophane/pseuds/MissCellophane
Summary: It was all for nothing. Everything they did and it ended like this? Why did he ever think it would turn out otherwise? He choked back tears as he ran and ran and ran. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! He wished he could fix it. He glanced down at the object in his hands. If this didn’t work, he was dead anyway.
Relationships: J. Daniel Atlas/Jack Wilder
Series: Random Ideas I Had [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288709
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	J. Daniel Atlas in: The Time Traveling Magician

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.

It was all for nothing. Everything they did and it ended like this? Why did he ever think it would turn out otherwise? He choked back tears as he ran and ran and ran. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! He wished he could fix it. He glanced down at the object in his hands. If this didn’t work, he was dead anyway. 

…

A loud scream tore him from his sleep, he only realized it was him when he choked on his breath. He curled up in a ball and cried, hands gripping his hair so hard his knuckles turned white. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. What was going on? He feels so out of it. Last thing he remembered. What was the last thing he remembered?

A hand touched his shoulder gently, a voice called out his name. It sounded like it was coming from underwater. It called out again and he whimpers as he finally recognized it.

No. No, he was dead! For real this time. He had seen it. Had watched it-

Arms wrapped around him, a hand carded through his hair and another patted his leg.

“-anny? Are you okay?”

“Daniel, please talk to us?”

“Let him breathe, he’s having a panic attack.”

Panic attack? Oh yeah, he was, wasn't he? 

“Take a deep breath and follow my breathing okay? In and out, in and out-“

He couldn’t breathe.

“You can. Please breathe Daniel.” 

“Danny…”

He twitched but tried. He took deep breaths, his throat thick with tears, and his mind filled with too many thoughts. 

“There you go. Just keep breathing.”

He coughed and groaned.

“I’ll go get some water.”

“Jack-“

“I’m not letting go of him-“

“I wasn’t gonna say that. I was gonna ask if you could move his hands. He’s gonna make himself bleed if he keeps gripping his hair so hard.”

He felt a soft touch against his knuckles.

“Hey, you’re okay. But I need you to move your hands okay? You’re gonna get a headache if you don’t.”

The joke was awful but it was enough to make him snort and shakily remove his hands. He was trembling, he realized. Shit. Wait-

His head snapped up and he stared at the man in front of the bed.

Was he dead? Was this some bad purgatory before he got sent to hell? Daniel wasn't very religious but he was sure if God did exist he wouldn’t have gotten into heaven with all the shit he’s pulled.

“Ho-“ He coughed again, a cool glass was pressed into his hands.

“Here, drink.” 

He stared at the redhead standing next to the bed with wide eyes. Then he turned back to the man standing at the foot of the bed, a frown on his face.

He was confused. What was going on? What was he-

He gasped and dropped the water onto the bed, his hand coming up to press against his head.

A mournful wish, a bright flash, loud noise and then, nothing. 

He stared at the growing wet spot on his lap, not hearing the sudden curse or movement as Henley ran out of the room to get paper towels. He felt tears fall out of his eyes again as he processed what was going on.

“It worked.” He mouthed more than whispered as his throat was still raw from his screaming.

He couldn’t believe it actually worked. There was so much that he could change! If it really did work anyway and this isn’t just a very vivid hallucination. He wouldn’t put it past The Eye to torture him like this. To use his weaknesses against him to break him.

A wad of white entered his vision. He watched with a sort of detached wonder as the water soaked through the paper. Was this real? Or did he finally break? 

“Daniel? Hey, you okay man? You kinda keep zoning out.” 

He froze. He wanted to turn so bad, to look and see for himself that he was here. But what if this wasn’t real? Did he really want to do that to himself? He did but he didn’t turn. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“Danny, breathe, man.” Merritt reminded him, “You gotta breathe.”

There was only one way he could find out if this was real. Even if it wasn’t, he will still get to see and interact with them one last time. 

He sniffled and coughed once more, this time taking the water held out to him. 

“I’m gonna help you hold it okay? Don’t want to spill it again. Just pull your head back when you're done.”

He wanted to tell them he could do it himself. He wasn’t sick. Just really out of it. But he held back the comments, just took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Hey, hey, slow down! You don’t want to choke. We still got a show tonight!” Merritt chided.

“Guys, I don’t think he’s in a good state to be doing a show,” Jack stated, pulling the glass away from Daniel when he moved. With a clink, he set it on the nightstand.

“Well, we can’t cancel it. It’s the bank heist! We only have one chance at this.” Henley said though she did sound slightly worried.

Bank heist? Did he go that far back? He pressed his hand against his eyes. Fuck. He’ll have to deal with _Dylan_ again. That fucking _bastard_. He wants to find him and punch that man in the face, repeatedly, for bringing them all into this. Henley was right to leave the first chance she got. He shouldn’t have trusted a fucking cult-like group that worked through anonymous phone calls and meetups. He shouldn’t have trusted them at all.

But now he’ll get the chance to fix it right? He’ll get a chance to save Henley, Merritt, Lula, and _Jack_. He’ll make everything right again. He has to. Even if this is a hallucination, even if everything doesn’t matter in the end. Because he’ll do everything to protect them. Even Lula.

Fuck. _Lula_. She wouldn’t join the group for at least another two years. Did he want to try to get her to not join? Try to scare her off? No, that would never work. Lula would have run towards the danger, not away. And while Daniel still doesn’t like her that much she had kinda grown on him. She was like an annoying younger sister he didn’t want. 

But she only shows up because Henley left right? So if he got Henley to stay-No, he couldn’t do that to her either. Fuck. He’ll figure something out. He has too.

He zoned back into the conversation to hear Jack and Henley quietly arguing if he was fit to go on stage. He took a moment to collect himself and cleared his throat. He kept his eyes on Henley and not the warm body sitting next to him.

“I’m fine. I can perform.”

“Daniel-“

“I’m _fine_.” He repeated harshly, mentally wincing when he felt Jack flinch against him.

“You just had a really bad panic attack.” Merritt pointed out, “That doesn’t seem fine to me.”

Jack apparently agreed, “Yeah! You can’t perform if you're exhausted and shaking!” 

He clenched a fist in his sheets, the water had soaked into the covers and it was making him uncomfortable. He’ll need to wash them.

“The show isn’t until tonight and it’s-“ He glanced at the clock, breath hitching as he catches sight of Jack, he turns back to Henley hurriedly, “Still early. Just give me some time to calm down and I’ll be good.” 

“I don’t know.” Henley wavered, looking him over.

“Are you sure Danny?” She asked, “I’ve never seen you so rattled before. And this show is important. You’ll need to be able to actually perform. _Decently_.” She flicked her gaze over him once more, pointedly.

Well, at least she was showing some concern? He mentally rolled his eyes. Good to know she kept her sarcastic quips about him even when worried.

“ _Every_ show is important.” Daniel corrected, “Which is why I’m going. You won’t change my mind.”

“Atlas-“

“Enough.” Daniel cut Merritt off, “I just need some space to calm down. I’ll be ready by tonight. I promise. Just give me space.” 

They obviously didn’t believe him but Merritt tipped an imaginary hat and left the room. Henley stared at him for a long moment.

“I hope you are better by tonight.” She finally commented before she too left the room. 

Daniel sighed, pressing a hand over his face. This was so fucked up.

“You should probably dry your sheets before you go back to sleep,” Jack said offhandedly.

Daniel froze, he had forgotten Jack was even in the room still. He didn’t reply.

Jack hummed, voice oddly light, “You know, it was kinda scary. Seeing you like that. You were screaming and crying and kept saying you were sorry.”

Shit. Did he say that?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Jack trailed off. 

He gently carded his hand through Daniel’s hair, speaking up once more, “But I am here if you ever want to, uh, you know, talk?” 

Daniel forgot how awkward Jack was at this point. He was still getting over his J.Daniel Atlas fanboy stage. He was pretty sure he never actually got over it, even years later, but he did stop freaking out whenever Daniel complimented him. Shit. Jack was so young right now. Daniel couldn’t resist the glance over to look. 

Soft doe eyes, ruffled hair, a tense twitch to his lips. He was worried. Daniel didn’t want to lie to him. But he did anyway. He needed to figure everything out first. And he definitely needed to figure out if this was a dream or reality.

“I’m fine.” He paused then added quieter, glancing away, “Thanks for the offer though.”

“Anytime.” 

Daniel took a deep breath. His chest clenching as he remembered a loud crunch and so much blood.

“Yeah.” He replied thickly. 

…

Jack stayed with him for a bit longer, just holding him and staying quiet for the most part. He did, at one point, tell him about the weird people he saw while he performed on the streets. Daniel really liked the one about the pink dog. 

When the slowly drying sheets finally annoyed him enough to get up and put them in the wash, or dryer at least, he felt much better. He barely glanced in the mirror when he went to clean himself up. He didn’t want to see how much of a train wreck he looked like. 

He scrubbed his face with a towel and stared at the sink. Everything from the past five and a half years was flashing in his head, one memory after the other. He could still remember how he felt when he went through this the first time. He snorted and barely resisted the urge to punch the wall. He _did_ need his hands after all. He settled for throwing the towel at the wall instead, falling to his knees as trembling hands gripped his hair. 

He needed to fix this. He couldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t let The Eye win. He took a deep breath and settled down, pulling out his phone from his pocket, glad he had the foresight to grab it before he left. He pulled up the note app on his phone and started to list everything that happened and the dates that he remembers. 

He lists the ‘important’ performances (i.e the heist, New Orleans, the rooftop, the failure, London), then all the people (Dylan, Tressler, Dylan’s revenge target, Bradley, and Tressler's son, Walter), then he started to list more specific things (robbing a bank, getting arrested, robbing Tressler, Jack’s ‘death’, etc.). 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed sitting in the bathroom going over all his memories of the last five and a half years. Fuck, had it really been that long? It felt far longer. 

He bit his thumbnail as he stared at the page in front of him. He had his work cut out for him. Especially if he was trying to get rid of Tressler, Walter, Bradley, and The Eye all at once. He added Dylan after a moment of thought. He needed to find out how to deal with him. Dylan was being manipulated just as much if not more than them but that didn’t mean Daniel forgave him. It didn’t help that the man was freakishly intelligent and wholeheartedly prepared to spend years making a plan to get revenge.

He tapped his foot. 

“The bank heist is tomorrow.” He reminded himself. He needed to think of something quick. And to work on his outward reactions, otherwise, he might honestly punch Dylan in the face as soon as he sees him. Which wouldn’t help _at all._

A loud knock startled him out of his thoughts.

“Atlas! Are you done? I need to piss!” Merritt called out loudly.

“Gross!” He heard Henley shout through the door.

His lip quirked upwards, he did miss this. He took a shaky breath, saved his notes, and stood up, opening the door.

“Have at it then.” He walked past Merritt to the laundry room. This hotel room was huge. And Daniel couldn’t even feel the hint of smug satisfaction that he felt the first time he walked into it. Now all he felt was a cold slimy tingle in the back of his spine. This hotel room reminded him of all his failures, of how he let his arrogance get to him. He hated it. And he is going to be so happy to leave. He pushed back the thoughts about how he was just gonna be stepping out of one memory-turned-nightmare into another soon enough.

He closed his eyes. This wasn’t going to work-no, it had to. He will not let them win. He _couldn’t_. Not again. Even if it was a dream he wasn’t gonna let them win. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to get to your sheets?” Henley asked, leaning against the washer.

Daniel blinked at her then shook his head and opened the dryer, pulling out his sheets.

Henley watched him with a furrow to her brow, “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” She asked, concern dripping into her words.

“I’m fine.” He replied briskly. 

“I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you were gonna be okay.” She corrected, “I wasn’t lying earlier. I have never seen you so rattled. Especially screaming yourself into a panic attack.” 

Daniel shrugged “Yeah well, there’s lots of things you don’t know about me.” He quickly changed the topic, “The plans for tonight are on the table right?” He thinks that’s where he left them or was that another hotel? It was hard to remember clearly.

Henley thankfully nodded “Yup, and don’t worry. We didn’t touch your precious papers.” She griped, annoyed.

“Good. Thanks.” Daniel breathed in, “I’m gonna look them over again. Just to refresh my brain.” He left before he could see her look of disbelief.

He didn’t bother remaking his bed, he had no intention of going back to sleep right now as he really did need to refresh his memory of the plan. He didn’t want to accidentally add a trick he wouldn’t have known at this point in time, It had been over four years since he last read it after all. After tossing the blanket into ‘his’ room, he headed to the table, his shoulders relaxing as he took in his organized mess of papers. 

He had a system that annoyed the hell out of Henley. To her, it just looked like a mess but to him it was perfect. It helped him to sort things and put them into spots that he could easily find. Even if that spot isn’t so easy for someone else. He had a separate note pad that he scribbled in notes and additional information about what he was reading and another for his random stream of thoughts.

He sat down and pulled his notebook about the plans to him first, it would have the information he needed most. He flipped through page after page, flashes of the performance, and everything leading up to it swirled in his head. The deja vu hit him hard and he had to take a moment to breathe. Fuck. This was going to be a lot harder than he first thought.

A clink had him blinking and looking over to see Jack had set a coffee cup next to him before he sat down across from him with his own.

“Figured neither of us was going back to sleep,” Jack stated, shrugging.

Daniel grimaced but picked up the coffee, the familiar aroma relaxing him further.

“Thanks.” He paused to take a sip, “Sorry. For waking you all.” 

Jack looked briefly startled before he smiled at him, shrugging again, “Eh, It’s cool. I can just take a nap before we head out later.” 

Daniel still felt guilty for waking them so early, a glance at the clock earlier as he was going to the dryer showed it was only five something in the morning. 

“I think Merritt headed back to bed and Henley went for a run in the gym,” Jack informed him.

Daniel nodded, looking back at his notebook, it was too difficult to look at Jack. The pain was still too raw. Even three months later. He blinked back the tears threatening to fall and instead focused on rememorizing the plan. 

Jack sat with him, playing with his phone and sipping at his coffee, glancing at Daniel every so often. Daniel ignored him. 

…

The show went off without a hitch. Daniel only briefly froze when the fake contraption holding the French man snapped closed, the loud noise ringing in his ears. He didn’t let it jar him for too long as he fell back into his facade, finishing the show. He smiled and bowed to the crowd, clenching his fists to hide his shaking. 

He ended up running into the bathroom as soon as he got backstage, tearing his headphones off and pushing them onto some passing staff member. He slammed the door to a stall open and retched. He didn’t actually throw up but he did dry heave a couple of times. He curled up against the wall of the stall, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to calm his breathing.

“Shit dude, you okay?”

Of course, it was Jack. He didn’t open his eyes.

“Yeah, just peachy.” He couldn’t resist the sarcastic quip.

Jack slid down next to him, “Alright. You are obviously upset about something.” He knocked their shoulders together, “You don’t have to tell me but I am worried. We all are. Are you sick? Did you get food poisoning or something?”

Daniel’s lip twitched upwards as Jack continued to ramble nervously. He missed it. Hearing Jack ramble was both relieving and painful.

“I’m not sick.” He said, cutting off a surprisingly informative spiel about the effects of soup, “I just got nauseous. I’m good now.” He opened his eyes and shot Jack a smile, but even he could feel it was weak, “We should head out before the cops get here.” 

Jack stared at him for a long moment then he nodded and stood up, holding out a hand for Daniel. He took it, swallowing thickly at the warmth pressing against his skin, he tugged his hand back as soon as he was standing. 

“You’ll tell me if you are sick though right? Because I don’t want you to just start puking on stage. That would definitely ruin our reputation.”

Daniel snorted “You don’t gotta worry about that.” He assures him, then adds before he could regret it, “Just some leftover jitters from this morning.”

Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing, “Okay, good. I mean, not good but at least you’re not sick?”

Daniel shot him another weak smile, he reached over to flush the toilet then moved Jack out of the way so he could wash his hands.

“Let’s go.” 

…

Danny wants to punch his face so fucking bad. He couldn’t help that his sarcastic retorts come out slightly angrier than he wanted them to. Dylan Rhodes just pissed him off. He shows up out of nowhere, makes them feel special, gives them false hope of being _something_ , and then helps the people he promised would help them to ruin them instead when their use ran out. 

A loud crunch, a scream of pain, banging, a flash of light, a mournful wish. 

He didn’t care if Dylan didn’t know what was going to happen, didn’t care if Dylan was being used just as much as they were. He was still involved. 

“So look real close, get all over me.” He leaned closer to Dylan, eyes sharp, “Because the more you think you see, the less you do.”

He took too much pleasure in jerking the chains onto Dylan, slipping his phone into his pocket as he stared him in the face. He’ll follow along with his plans for now but he wouldn’t let him control him. Not again. Not if he could help it. He may not be as good as Dylan at planning things but he wasn’t complete shit at it either. He did plan out a whole heist himself after the man abandoned them after all. Dylan, The Eye, Tressler, Walter, Bradley, they would all see. They will all regret having messed with J.Daniel Atlas and those he calls his. 

He glanced back at the building once more before sliding into the seat of the taxi. 

He’ll make sure they regret it.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: misscellophane-ao3


End file.
